Harmonic Homeruns
by MegaTJ
Summary: Nothing outside of baseball had ever captured the attention of Perfect Pitch for more than a few minutes. His entire world changes when he stumbles upon a certain cellist...
1. Two Sides of the Same Coin

Two Sides of the Same Coin

"YOU'RE OUT!"

That shout echoed inside of Pitch's head with a vengeance. It was the last thing out of the umpire's mouth before all of his teammates to groaned and complained from the dugout. It was his third screw up just that game. Needless to say he was losing his edge and, even more so, his nerve. He had beaten himself up ever since he left the diamond. His head hung low as he counted the lines in the sidewalks of Canterlot. He barely noticed any of the snobs and higher-ups pass as he walked home.

"Why is this happening to me?" he asked himself again. The light blue Pegasus Pony had been the Canterlot Trotters' MVP since he had joined the team. He and his friends had enjoyed victory over and over again for the past three seasons. Now suddenly he stunk. The last fourteen games had been nothing short of harsh on his baseball career. Nearly every ball he pitched was just that, a ball, and he could no longer bat to save his life. He just thanked the good mercy of Princess Celestia that his contract hadn't expired yet.

He looked back at his flank, where the Cutie Mark of three baseballs flying out of a park was situated. "I don't deserve this Cutie Mark…" It was the fifth time he had said that since the end of the game against the Fillies. And it only added to his dismay that that particular team was the lowest ranking team in the League.

So, he continued to criticize himself for incompetence and other failure-inducing things. No tears fell to the ground with his gaze, for his anger with himself overcame any hint of sadness. Pitch was always the last pony to cry, if even then. He might have flown home, but his seething depression left his wings too weary to move much. Plus, he wasn't much a flier anyway.

As the heat of the day came down on him, Pitch could only sigh in frustration. He kept thinking back to the easy line drive that should have popped right into his mitt, and how an easy strikeout came about as a home runner. But worst of all, he managed to strikeout on three straight pitches! And all he needed was just one run to win the game!

He stopped walking and decided to finally look up to see where his unguided walking had brought him. He was in an unfamiliar-yet-recognizable part of Canterlot. He had always strolled through this district, but had never really paid much attention to it. Probably because he was an athlete. Anyways, he had managed to wander into Canterlot's Music Avenue. As the name implies, this was the main street where music clubs, orchestras, etc. were found. To try and cool off his steaming irritation, he decided to roam about, hopefully to find a free concert or street musician somewhere.

With each step through the more peaceful part of the big city, Pitch became more relaxed. All of the stress and tenseness had melted away within a matter of a few blocks. The colors were vibrant, not the bright and flashy colors of advertisements that could be found elsewhere in Canterlot. The busy air was replaced with peaceful music which alternated among the different genres as he walked passed different buildings.

"Wow…" he breathed, "I need to come by here a lot more…"

His pace picked up as his excitement grew, eager to explore more of Music Avenue. He kept walking until some of the peace disappeared, and realized he was starting to leave the inner part of the music square. There was nothing but instrument shops now, and much of the crowd had returned to the sidewalk. Deciding that he didn't want to get back into the busy atmosphere of the city, he quickly turned around and then quickly regretted it.

_WHAM!_

He spun so fast that he crashed right into another pony. A loud banging noise blasted in his ears as he hit the ground. _That sounded expensive_, he thought.

"Oomph!" He grunted upon landing. That hurt. He actually blacked out a little. He didn't hurry to try and help the other pony up or even open his eyes. This was Canterlot, and the least he would get would be a "Don't touch me, you filthy, barbaric thing!" However, no insult came. Instead, something much softer and contradicting rang out in an alarmed tone.

"Oh, my apologies! I wasn't watching where I was walking."

He felt somepony tugging on him in an attempt to get him to his hooves. He stood, ignoring the aching that still throbbed through his head. He kept his eyes shut in fear of being yelled at for stupidity on his part. Again, the voice said something different.

"You don't have to keep your eyes closed", whoever it was said, "I'm not going to shout at you."

Pitch took that as his cue to let his eyelids creak open. What filled them other than light was a light, gray-amber mare wearing a white collar and a purple bowtie. Her mane and tail were both tidy and well-styled. Instantly, he knew that this mare was packing some heavy money. But there was something about her that told she was different from the rest of Canterlot's society. She was looking at him with gray-purple eyes of concern, not hate or arrogance.

"I-I'm sorry", he quickly stammered, "I turned too fast and I must've hit you…"

"No, I'm quite fine", she replied, "You did hit my instrument case though."

She pointed to a large, black, violin shaped case on the ground. Pitch knew that it was the crash he heard. And that it was the reason his head hurt so badly.

"Oh, sorry…" He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Please, there is no reason to apologize. As I had said: I wasn't watching where I was going", she interrupted. "And besides, the case isn't broken."

"I'm…" Pitch just let it go. There was no sense in arguing.

"Okay I hope", the mare giggled.

He nodded sheepishly, having forgotten everything that had just happened. When the silence threatened to get awkward, he spoke again. "I guess I'll…"

She offered him her hoof, "I'm Octavia. Octavia Melody."

He shook it, "Pitch. Perfect Pitch. Just call me Pitch, no pony, and I mean no pony, calls me Perfect. I hate it when ponies call me Perfect. I'm the exact opposite."

"I will keep that in mind, Pitch", Octavia replied.

After they had finished shaking the other's hoof, Octavia gave Pitch a quick once over. He was a hair taller than she was, and his mane was a light blue with crisscrossed darker blue lines running through it as was his tail. His wings were the same blue as his coat, but his larger feathers were red-tipped. His cerulean eyes were a few shades lighter than her purple ones, giving him a confident profile. Then she noticed his Cutie Mark.

"You must not come through here often", she assumed.

He nodded, "Actually this is my first time taking in the sights. I was hoping to catch a free concert or something to blow off some steam I had earlier."

Octavia knew then exactly how to make up for the red mark on Pitch's forehead. "Well, in that case, come with me. I'm scheduled for an audition in a few minutes. You can watch without charge. Consider it a token of my apology."

"Really…uh, thanks", Pitch said awkwardly.

"You're welcome", replied Octavia cheerfully. She stooped to pick up her instrument. Before she reached it, Pitch hurriedly picked it up for her.

"I'll hold onto this for you", he said, slipping it onto his back. It was heavy for an instrument, but Pitch could handle it. It was nothing compared to some other things he's had to carry before.

"No, I'm quite capable", she argued, reaching for it.

He backed away a few steps. "Nah, I couldn't letcha wear yourself out before your audition." The look he gave her told Octavia that she wasn't about to win the dispute without being late.

"I suppose it will be fine", she said, giving up. She started off in the direction she was last headed.

He trotted alongside her. As he passed her, the smell of her perfume gently entered his nose. It was so thin that he barely got the whiff, but he could still judge it to be the best smell that he had ever smelled.

"So…" Pitch began, "Where're we going?"

"To the Interlude Hall of Music", she answered. She glanced at him as she waited to see if he would see the irony.

"I'm no dictionary, but I do know that interlude means 'quiet'", he said, confused, "I know that from my dad."

"Yes, the name may contradictory, but it is one of the most prodigious music academies in Equestria." She was surprised that this baseball player knew something about something other than a homerun, but, then again, that was just a stereotype she was referring to.

"Academy? Are you trying to get a scholarship or something?"

"No, nothing in relation to that", she replied, "The auditions are being held for those whose dream is to join the Celestial Orchestra."

Pitch almost blurted out what to him was a useless piece of trivia, but he instead asked, "Isn't that the group that plays at the Celestial Passing every year?"

"Why, yes. How did you know that?" She gazed at him in curiosity.

"My dad", he simply answered, "He's a musician too, so I pick up on some things." He gave her a cheeky look.

"Really, that's fascinating." She looked at the athlete. He was still walking forward, his sights on her for the moment.

"What is?" Pitch asked, "My dad being a musician, or me being a ball player?"

His quip caught her off guard. She was about to speak, but he interrupted her.

"I get my athletic side from my mom. She's a ball player too", Pitch explained. He added with a chuckle, "Don't ask how they fell in love. I'm still completely confused at how a musician and an athlete could fall for each other."

"It is said that opposites attract", Octavia commented.

Pitch eyed her oddly. "Right. I heard the same thing."

"Oh, we're here!"

Pitch stopped just after she did and looked at the nearest building he saw. It was tall and shiny. Immediately he knew this place would be full of Canterlot's highest social climbers. He sighed to himself. Octavia walked in first, holding the door politely for him as he carried her cello. The inside was much cooler, probably due to the amount of the ice sculptures in the lobby. The sculptures were mainly of instruments, but there was an occasional statue of a singing mare or stallion. They were lined against the walls, leading up to the front desk.

Their hooves echoed against the tile flooring as they crossed the room. When they stopped in front of it, the receptionist glanced up from her papers. She instantly noticed Octavia. "Ms. Melody! You are right on time! Please, enter into the main auditorium through the door on the left."

"Thank you", replied Octavia politely.

Pitch tried to remain as silent and as motionless as possible. He didn't want to get the clerk's attention. It didn't work. As he followed Octavia past the desk, she stopped him. "I'm sorry, sir", she hissed sourly, eyeing his Cutie Mark, "I'm afraid you aren't welcome inside. The public is not allowed to watch the auditions."

Pitch was going to reply something with a sour note of his own, but Octavia beat him to the punch. "I was to understand that this was an open audition."

"I'm afraid, Ms. Melody, that the head judge had changed his mind at the last minute. The public is _not _allowed."

The new tone in her voice toward the cellist made Octavia put a little of her attitude into the mix. "Well, if I cannot have my special guest here with me today, then we shall both take our leave", she said turning, "I am sure the dean will be most satisfied in hearing that his niece will not be attending the auditions."

The receptionist choked on her next reply. "I-I'm so sorry, Ms. Melody. I hadn't realized. You may both enter…"

"Thank you." Octavia's voice had a hint of triumph in it, but it was to get her point across to the clerk.

"Is the dean really your uncle?" Pitch asked in the darkened hallway behind the door the clerk opened for them.

The mare waited for the door to close completely. Through the dim lighting she smiled at him. "No, but it does make for a convincing story, does it not?"

"Could've fooled me." The Pegasus seemed to be a little more relaxed now that there was nearly no light in the hall.

They both kept walking until the light at the end of their metaphorical tunnel started to grow. The faint sounds of a flute drifted into their ears. Both started to intensify as the two ponies advanced. In the auditorium, the only lights present were the stage lights, which were put to their maximum brightness. On stage, a white unicorn was blowing across a flute. Her pink mane fell over her shoulders and was clasped by a big bow in the back.

In the sea of seats sat three judges. The light made it difficult to describe them, but Pitch and Octavia could tell they meant business. Their faces held no emotions, their hooves held clipboards. Every so often, one of them would scribble something down for the perfection of a note, or a comment for a missing chord.

Octavia looked around and spotted the stage door. She pointed to it and he followed her silently, not to disturb the current performer. The door was so small that Pitch had to awkwardly maneuver himself in without banging the cello or his head against the frame. Octavia quietly closed the door behind them.

"We can speak freely now. This section is soundproof, no pony can hear us", Octavia stated.

"Oh, good, because my vocal cords nearly went to sleep", Pitch chuckled. "I can't stand being quiet."

Octavia only offered him a polite smile.

He scratched his mane, "I guess you're not the joking kind, eh?"

Her grin widened. "Only when it is a funny joke."

He gave her a sarcastic glare. "Touché, Octavia."

"I wish we could stay and converse for a while longer, but I am about to go on."

"Say no more." He quickly stooped and slung his shoulder forward. The case's strap wrapped around him and neck of the case swung over his head. He put his hoof up and the case stopped abruptly against it, upright, in front of him.

"That was impressive, Pitch", Octavia complimented.

He smiled modestly. "Thanks. I know a little about counterbalancing."

They both unclasped the locks on the case and Octavia pulled the case open. Holding the case upright with his wing, Pitch peered into it to find that a cello lay within. Octavia pulled it out and balanced in on her back. She grabbed the bow from the case and wedged it in between the cello's strings and the bridge.

"I'll see you on stage", Pitch said. "Break a leg."

"Thank you, I'll play my best. Just for you."

It was an innocent comment, but Pitch's cheeks lit up pink instantly. No mare had ever said anything along those lines to him. _Good thing it's dark in…uh oh…_He thought as he realized that it was brighter in this room since Octavia had flipped the light switch when she closed the door.

He could only chuckle nervously to keep from saying something stupid. She smiled and turned toward the stairs. She climbed the three steps with ease, despite the heavy instrument on her back. Pitch watched as she turned and waited for the unicorn to leave the stage. The Pegasus turned and put his hoof on the door knob. He looked back and saw that Octavia had glanced at him. He gave her a quick nod and smile for luck, then opened the door and stepped out.

One thing he didn't notice when he first walked into the big room was how it was nearly completely empty. The clerk was telling the truth, not trying to keep him out, even though she may have detested him completely.

He crouched slightly to keep out of the judges' sights. He hurriedly made his way up the steps and took a seat several rows behind the judges. No pony noticed him, so he gave a quiet sigh. He gazed at the stage, where the unicorn was still playing her flute. She was fairly decent, according to the ball player. He saw that she was nearly stiff as a board.

_I would imagine so, that's a lot of pressure…_he thought to himself. Pitch strained his eyes, but he couldn't tell if she was sweating or not. She continued playing the instrument for another thirty seconds. She tucked it behind her ear with her magic and bowed politely.

"Thank you for your time", she said to the judges. There was a small amount of uncertainty in her voice.

"We appreciate you coming today", announced the only male judge. "We will contact you when we compare the scores."

The performer bowed again. She exited stage left with a nervous quickness. Pitch could hear the judges murmuring amongst themselves, but couldn't make out any specific words. The quiet conversation died after several seconds.

The stallion cleared his throat. "Next performer!" he called. His voice echoed throughout the large room.

Immediately, Octavia walked onstage. She held her head up confidently, yet she knew deep down that if one thing went wrong, she would break down into a million pieces. She turned to face her audience upon reaching center stage. She gazed at the judges as she leveled her cello in front of her. In the corner of her eye, she spotted her fourth spectator. Octavia saw Pitch smile broadly and give her a healthy wave. For some reason, some of her jitteriness went away. She smiled slightly.

This time, one of the mare judges, a unicorn, spoke. "Tell us your name and what you will be playing today, dearie." Her voice was soft, but it still carried.

Taking a deep breath, Octavia replied calmly, "I am Octavia Melody. Today I will be performing Anponio Hoofaldi's _La primavera _on my cello_._"

"An excellent choice", commented the other female judge, "spring has just begun."

"Thank you", replied Octavia.

"Ms. Melody, you may begin when you are ready", the stallion said.

She nodded and grabbed the bow from in between the strings of her instrument. She settled the long bow on the strings and began her song…

**And my next story written years ago!**

**Trivia:**

**Wondering about **_**La Primavera**_**? Odds are you've heard it before. The human composer is Antonia Vivaldi.**

**Pitch is one of my first OCs coming just before Linen Fiber.**


	2. A Small Get-Together

A Small Get-Together

It seemed as if only two seconds had gone by before Pitch had found himself back in the Canterlot afternoon. He watched the many ponies of Music Avenue pass by as he waited for Octavia to join back up with him. He was still swaying back and forth to the replay of Octavia's music in his head. It wasn't the usual rock he had listened to since he had first picked up a bat, but he liked the way it echoed inside of his head. He wondered if Octavia recorded her songs. It would be great to be able to constantly listen to her music. He turned to the sound of the door opening behind him.

Octavia walked out with a relieved smile spread across her face. She set her instrument down next to him. A sigh escaped her lips.

"Go good?" Pitch was almost bouncing with anticipation. He really hoped she made it.

"I have progressed on to the secondary auditions." She grinned even wider.

"That's awesome!" He jumped into the air and hovered in place. "When are they?"

"I have two weeks to prepare for them", she replied, "I assume you want to come cheer me on?"

"Uh…" A light blush crossed his nose. Rubbing his neck, he replied, "Well, yeah, I mean you play better than I bat!"

She gave him another smile for his poor, but meaningful, comparison. Her gaze turned to the sky, and she noted how orange it was becoming. "Pitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have anything planned for this evening?"

His eyes widened. _Is she asking me on a date?_ he squeaked in his head. "Uh, no, no, I'm free."

"In that case I would like you to a small celebration dinner."

_She is! She is!_ _Ok keep cool, keep cool! _"Sure! I'd love to go!" he yelled. _So much for cool…_

"I'm glad you are as enthusiastic as I am", she giggled, "I'll be waiting for you in the lobby of the _Emerald Cube _hotel."

_The Emerald Cube? Geez, that's expensive…_he thought. "W-what time?" he asked excitedly.

"Shall we say seven?"

"I say yes!"

She giggled again, sending Pitch's face into a deep red color. She pretended not to notice to spare him anymore embarrassment. "Then I will see you there. Goodbye for now, Pitch."

"See ya later." He continued to flutter in place while she departed for her hotel. When he was absolutely sure that Octavia could no longer see or hear him, he flew straight up with a cheer that echoed up and down the street, causing several ponies to look up at the absurdly loud Pegasus. He straightened out his wings and used the updraft of the buildings around him to carrying him over the block. He barely concentrated on where he was going in his excitement and accidentally cut into the paths of several other Pegasi flying the same way. He didn't hear the words of protests and insults from the snooty ponies and instead kept gliding home.

For the fastest path to his apartment, Pitch gained an altitude higher than those of the buildings that towered into the Canterlot sky. The wind was at least three times stronger than the lower altitudes, giving the novice flier a shock by nearly blowing him right out of the sky. He powered through it, managing to get headway after he applied what he learned from his flight lessons years before. The sinking sun set the city ablaze with golden orange. If it was possible, he managed to become even more excited than before. His Pegasus nature almost caused him the mistake of rolling over in a stunt, but his cautious mind prevented him from killing himself with an impossible trick.

His exhausting flight came to a stop when he finally reached the top floor of one of Canterlot's more luxurious apartment buildings. His penthouse's balcony nearly collapsed under his crash landing. Luckily, the colt found he didn't break anything, not even his nose, which he landed on, once the dizziness faded from his vision. Hopping up from his would-be crater, Pitch uncovered the spare key to his balcony under the doormat and happily let himself in. The inside of his penthouse suite was something that many of the ponies of the higher society of Canterlot owned. The latest styles in furniture and décor furnished every room. Needless to say he was the product of wealthy parents. Fortunately, he would never forget that, and, like always, he gave the top of the frame of his mother and father an acknowledging pat.

There were a couple hours before he had to meet Octavia, so he decided to pass the time reminiscing. "Heh", he chuckled to himself, "Dad's really gonna get a kick outta this. Me liking a cellist…yeah, that sounds weird, but whatever. She's a pretty cool pony. Mom's going to make fun of me so much!"

Why he was talking to himself about the reactions of his parents he didn't know. To anypony that would have taken an interest in watching a colt pace around his apartment, they might have assumed he was doing so to put out the flaming blush that took over his face as well as quell the massive, goofy smile that accompanied it. Once a few glasses of ice water were cooling his insides, he managed to get a hold on his face.

"Okay", he sighed as the last few drops of enthusiasm evaporated. "I need to get ready for tonight. I'll make sure to get a quick shower in…should I wear something? Man, Dad would know…"

A knock echoed from his living room door. Behind the door, as fate would have it, stood two ponies that were about a head taller than him. One wore a red and white baseball jersey sporting the team name "Red Bucks" on the front. She wore heavily layered eye black and was chewing what was probably her favorite chewing gum. Her counterpart wore a full black tuxedo complete with red bowtie.

The stallion smiled down at the ball player. "How did your game go, Son?" he asked with a deep conductor's voice.

Pitch frowned. "I blew it", he huffed as he let them in.

"Oh, come on!" said his mother loudly after a loud pop of her chewing gum. "It can't be any worse than mine!"

"I walked six batters", he replied flatly, "By accident!"

"Yikes."

His father offered him a sympathetic smile. "Maybe you'll do better next time."

"With my luck…I really don't know, Dad."

"One day we'll check in and you'll have good news, Pitch", said his mom with a ruffle of his mane.

"Actually, I have a date tonight."

His parents stared at him in disbelief. He smiled at how funny they looked. To confirm that he wasn't lying and that their ears were indeed working, Pitch nodded. "Yep. With a cellist."

If they looked as if they didn't believe him before, there were no words to describe the change their faces underwent to display their surprise. However, with their careers overseen by hundreds if not thousands of ponies at one time, they both managed to overcome the shock rather quickly. Behind that lay happiness for their son.

"I never thought you'd drop a baseball long enough to even look at a mare let alone find the time to go out with one", said his father.

"Well, since my baseball career's in the gutter right now, I figured why not. Anyway, I need help with what to wear and stuff. We're having dinner at the_ Emerald Cube_."

"Expensive", his mother commented.

"And fancy", added his father.

"And I don't have a single suit", Pitch sighed.

"Haha! You won't need something that formal", laughed the older stallion, "I have something else in mind for you…"

**P**

Several hours went by, and soon the orange afternoon sky turned deep purple. The pedestrian traffic slowed to a crawl now that most ponies were home and enjoying the evening away from work. Pitch found himself as one of the few still traveling the streets. He was going to be a few minutes early by what his father had told him. That was good given the circumstances. It would ensure he didn't appear too punctual nor laggard. His destination came into view around the next few corners. Just before entering the lavish hotel, the Pegasus checked his breath once more. He would have hated to embarrass himself with something so small. To avoid the watchful eyes of the doormare, Pitched slipped in using a large stallion as cover. Now there was the matter of finding the restaurant half of the giant, brass finished _Emerald Cube_.

Meanwhile, as Pitch became familiar with the inside of the lobby, a mare already situated at a dining table deeper into the first floor. She watched the entrance from the corner of her eye. It was five minutes before seven. Octavia hoped Pitch knew where he was going. It would be very embarrassing if she should have specified where dinner would be. She shifted uneasily in her seat. Doubts began to fill her mind two minutes later, leading her to fiddle with the beads sewn into her simple black dress. She had no idea what she should have worn, and figured the safest thing to put on was the minidress her friend Vinyl Scratch insisted she pack just in case there was some sort of semi-formal party.

"Canterlot's full of higher ups", said the unicorn the day Octavia was to leave for the regal city. "It's practically law you'll be invited to one or something."

Now that she thought about it, Octavia sure was glad the DJ had talked her into it. The dress might have been simple, but at least she was wearing something. Pitch was bound to wear something more formal given the reputation of the _Emerald Cube._ Thoughts of what he might look like in a full tuxedo made her giggle to herself. Seeing the dusty, dirt-covered baseball player she met only hours before clean and in a heavy jacket was almost too funny. Those memories were probably the reason she didn't notice a cobalt colt walk through the open doors. After a brief conversation with the usher, he was guided to her table. Only when he sat did she finally see him.

"Place looks smaller on the outside", he chuckled.

For a few seconds, the mare was speechless. Pitch had gone through a complete transformation since she last saw him. Being freshly showered, groomed, and dressed in a simple blue vest and white bow tie, she almost didn't recognize him. If it wasn't for the red that highlighted the tips of his wings and the crisscrossing dark blue stripes in his mane and tail, she would have thought she was looking at a new stallion altogether.

"I thank you for combing your mane for tonight", she jested.

"Heh, don't get used to it. I don't look this snazzy too much." He smile. "You look pretty good yourself. I'd say ya hit a homer with that dress."

Even though she didn't quite understand him, she accepted his compliment modestly. "I don't necessarily agree…it's just something that I happened to have on hoof."

"Then we're in the same dugout. I don't even own anything but this vest."

Thankfully, before the awkward conversation about their clothes could continue, their waiter approached the table. "Good evening. I am Silver Platter and I will be your waiter for this fine meal. What may I get you to start the meal off?"

Pitch went for his menu, and was surprised to find Octavia had both of them. Apparently she wanted to order the appetizers. "We would like the stuffed mushrooms for two, please?"

"Ah, an excellent choice. And to drink?"

"Apple cider", Pitch said to keep Octavia from ordering from him.

"Grape cider", said the mare.

"I will return shortly." With a polite bow, the unicorn departed for the kitchen to place the order.

"Stuffed mushrooms?" Pitched inquired curiously.

"Yes, I apologize for not letting you have a chance to offer your order. I was caught in the moment and wanted to avoid upsetting our waiter. Besides, I'm sure we will both enjoy them."

"Can't be worse than my cooking", Pitch admitted.

"Or mine", she giggled. "I think we've found a common ground."

Pitch saw an opportunity to flatter her and took it. "I thought we already had one."

"Which would be?"

He grinned. "Great cello music."

Octavia's smile slowly faded into a curious look. "'Great cello music'?"

"Well, I mean…yeah", he said, "I really liked the way you played."

She looked away, sporting a diffident blush and smile. "Thank you…Not many ponies compliment my music much anymore."

"Really? I am and I will everytime you play."

"You're very kind." Octavia flashed her teeth with her next smile.

"Better than giving somepony a bad day."

Since he had gone into the topic of her music, she felt obligated to go into the wilds of baseball. He would more than likely appreciate it. The only problem was she didn't know the first thing about the sport. "So…you play baseball", she stated awkwardly. Her blush deepened from modest to full out embarrassed.

"Yeah. Canterlot Trotters", he confirmed proudly. He pointed out his attire. "Team colors."

"Are you well practiced?"

"I'm major league, so yeah, but I've been having some pretty bad luck this season…"

"Oh? Perhaps it is temporary."

"I hope so…" He scratched the back of his head. "I'd hate to be kicked from the team…"

"I'm sure your luck will turn around."

Her smile actually gave him hope. "Thanks. That oughta help during practice tomorrow."

"Your drinks", said Silver Platter suddenly, appearing amidst their conversation.

"Thank you."

Pitch sipped his cider in thought. He quickly shook himself free of his baseball plague thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was recede into himself and accidentally ignore dinner to dwell on his failures. He searched for something else to say, but nothing outside cellos and baseball really crossed his mind. That was until he remembered they were seated inside the restaurant of a hotel.

"So…where are you from?"

"I come from a small town called Ponyville in the countryside of Bridle Valley."

"Ponyville? I have an old friend who lives there! Do you know a Fluttershy?"

"There's nopony in Ponyville who doesn't", stated the cellist. "And if you are wondering, she is doing well, though afraid of heights."

"Yeah, that's Fluttershy alright", he chuckled.

"Indeed. So you are born and raised here in Canterlot?"

He nodded. "My whole family is from here. Never really been outta town except for a few games. Even then it's just a train ride to the stadium and back."

"Perhaps you should take a vacation."

The suggestion was so sudden that Pitch almost disregarded it. However, imagining a little time off away from the city did sit in a cozy place in his mind. He nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like a good idea. Maybe when the season's over."

"When will that be?"

"Twelve more games…somewhere in the ballpark six months. Why?"

"No reason", she harmlessly lied.

The rest of the evening slowly kneaded itself into a blur. The more Pitch and Octavia became acquainted, the more they came to like each other. Interest after interest came up between them to such an extent that the food that was supposed to be gourmet went by untasted by the two conversers. However much time passed, Pitch couldn't tell. That's exactly what he tried to figure out after while he walked home. Disappointed, yet somehow as happy as the night was young, he trotted merrily home, thinking about the mare that touched something deep inside him. "I wonder when I'll see her again…"

If only Pitch could have seen the near future…

**Ooh, I wonder what's going to happen next! So suspenseful!**

**Trivia:**

**Pitch's parents are nameless for now, but I will get their names up over the next couple of chapters.**

**To keep from forgetting the almost endless web of friendships and relationships, I have concocted a confusing Pony Relationship Chart that my girlfriend is currently rewriting for me to keep the confusion down.**


	3. Practice Brings Octavia?

Practice Brings…Octavia?

Pitch looked over his second home, the Canterlot Trotter's home baseball diamond. He took a huge whiff of the freshly cut grass twinkling with sprinkler water in the morning sun. For the first time in weeks, he didn't dread being the first to arrive for practice. Another peaceful sigh later and he was all set to step onto the infield. He dropped his equipment bag at home plate. The Pegasus stretched his still-drowsy muscles with one final yawn for the morning. Now fully awake for the day, Pitch unloaded his bag. A baseball bat, a few baseballs, his batting helmet, four cleats, and a mitt all fell to the dirt with a few shakes of the bright blue bag. He sorted his equipment in the order of what he planned to practice first.

He looked the bases once his cleats were firmly around his hooves. He studied each of the bases so intently that somepony could easily have thought he had a test on what they looked like later in the day. The stallion warmed up his legs and got his heart pumping using a few static stretches and exercises, and then took off for first base as quickly as he could. After that it was second base, then third, then home. He ran the length of infield over and over again until the repeated exercise dizzied him right to the baseline. For the avid ballplayer, the mental distortion was nothing more than a five second hindrance to his day of practice. The world still spun when he stopped, but the stubborn stallion shook it off for practice swings at invisible pitches.

Pitch continued his obsessive ritual until he was no longer the only one on the diamond. From the home dugout, an inky black unicorn wearing a jacket watched carefully as Pitch threw baseball after baseball to home plate. What really caught his attention was the stallion's smile, something he hadn't seen on the ball player in what felt like a really, really long time.

"Hey, you know what's up with Pitch?" he asked an arriving Earth Pony.

He dropped his things. "Dunno, Coach…"

The two continued to look on as their MVP cycle through a few passing drills to the arriving team as they crowded onto the field. Whatever had gotten into him improved his hoof power drastically, as every time a ball left the blue appendage, it became a white blur. Soon enough, a unicorn made the mistake of trotting up to bat. He popped his gum loudly and, to any pitcher, arrogantly.

"Yo, Pitch! Gimme your best shot!" he taunted, "C'mon! Let me hit one to the left field bleachers!"

Their coach and catcher watched Pitch give the boaster a healthy glare. The Earth Pony chuckled with a shake of his head. Apparently not everypony had seen the Pegasus's improvement since the last game. The scene unfolded like the most intense part of a dramatic book. Pitch took his stance at the mound, adjusted his hat, and lined up his aim. His teammate readied his bat in his mouth and waited patiently for what he thought would be an easy homerun. If only he knew he was dead wrong. Pitch reared back on his hind legs for momentum and released his fast ball right for the center of the strike zone.

Faster than anypony could blink, the ball tore into the fence behind the batting area. Embarrassed beyond belief, the unicorn slowly left the batter's box, accepting his defeat. Pitch smiled. "That's right, everypony!" he announced, "I'm back!"

The coach and the Earth Pony in the dugout exchanged impressed glances. Since the rest of the team swarmed the pitcher's mound to congratulate their pitcher, they decided it was time to get on with practice.

"Alright, guys, settle down!" called the unicorn. The sixteen ponies stopped patting Pitch on the back to listen. "I was going to set up some drills for today, but since Pitch's finally found his mind, I have a better idea."

"What's that, Coach", asked a tan Pegasus sporting the number nineteen and name "Double Down" on his jersey.

"We need to see exactly how prepared we are for Saturday's game. I want everypony to get to your position like in yesterday's game. If you didn't play, you're up to bat."

Nopony questioned his authority. As a matter of fact they were more than happy to start. Usually morale was low after a lost game, but today, now that the star player of the team was no longer destroying his batting average, it almost felt like they were having a perfect season. Had anypony been watching the never-ending game they were putting on, he or she might have had a hard time telling who was happier, Pitch or his team.

**P**

While the Canterlot Trotters practiced joyously a mix of routine and surprise plays for their game on Saturday, a mare about five blocks away consulted her map once again for the best way through absolute unknown territory. The bustling of the awakening city did little to help her concentration, and often she found her thoughts interrupted by a construction crew's power tools or the loud advertisements of a street vendor.

"Whoever could have known finding Trotter Stadium would be so hard?" Octavia asked herself aloud. Just to make sure she was headed in the right direction and wasn't going backwards, she turned the map upside down. Now she was thoroughly confused. Was she headed east or west and which of those was the right way?

Just as she was succumbing to frustration and was beginning to leak flammable rage, somepony wading through the crowd with her caught wind of her self-conversation and disarmed the explosion at the start of the countdown. "You're looking for Trotter Stadium?"

"Yes", replied the musical pony with a sigh of exasperation, "I'm not a frequent visitor of Canterlot, so I am entirely lost."

"I can take you there if you like."

Octavia looked up from her map to see a juvenile Earth Pony smiling up at her. His blonde mane twinkled in the morning sun, giving him a friendly appearance. Knowing the alternative of wandering around Canterlot all day, Octavia readily accepted his help. "I would appreciate that very much, Mister…?"

"Hoofprint!" he said brightly.

"It's nice to meet you, Hoofprint. My name is Octavia. If you would, please lead the way."

"Alrighty!" he announced in a Trottingham-ish accent, "Step lively, and be careful not to get left behind."

Octavia giggled at how cute that was. She placed her map back into her periwinkle saddlebag and got right behind her guide. "Yes, Sir."

Hoofprint led her in the direction she was travelling, but took a turn she didn't plan into her route. The trip proved to start off as silent, with the exception of the odd comment from the yellow pony ahead of her. Being the polite pony she was, Octavia made conversation with the young colt. "Do you visit Trotter Stadium often, Hoofprint?"

"Every home game!" he answered energetically. "They're my favorite team, even if they haven't won in a while…"

"I'm sure their luck will turn around", she assured, "Who's your favorite player?"

"Their catcher, Hot Hoof!"

Having no idea what a baseball catcher was, Octavia avoided embarrassment by asking, "Why is he your favorite?"

"He's funny and never lets a foul ball hit the ground!"

"Amazing."

"Who's your favorite?" Hoofprint asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"You gotta have a favorite if you're trying to get to the stadium on a practice day, right?"

His logic made sense. So much sense, in fact, that Octavia hesitated in answering. A blush rose to her face upon remembering that up until ten seconds ago she only knew one of the team's players. "Perfect Pitch", she told him confidently.

"That klutz?" said Hoofprint incredulously. "He's the reason they keep losing!"

"I know he has had a few hard games", Octavia defended, "But he hasn't always been like that."

The colt didn't reply for some reason, probably because she was right. Most ponies didn't like to be proven wrong, and would rather not talk than walk right into an already lost argument. That didn't keep her from moving the conversation along, though. "Do you play baseball?"

Her interest in his personal role in the sport perked his mood right back up. "Yep, I'm left field!" Sensing her next question, he replied before she gave him the chance to. "And I'm okay. I'm not great, but I just like to play for fun."

While his sportscoltship was admirable, Octavia wasn't able to let him know that, for they turned a corner to reveal the courtyard entrance to one of the largest structures the mare had ever seen. She gasped at how far just the outside of the stadium towered over her. "I've never in my…"

"It is awesome", chuckled Hoofprint, "It gets even better on the inside. It's too bad we can't go in, though."

"I believe we should at least give it a try", Octavia suggested, "I do happen to know one of them. Perhaps that could sway our chances."

"You _know_ a Canterlot Trotter!?" screamed the fully bewildered colt.

She nodded. "I most certainly do." She took a step forward. "Shall we, then?"

"Which one do you know?" he asked with that certain fancolt quickness that she had seen many ponies bombard Vinyl with back home.

"My favorite player." She giggled at the drop in elevation of his jaw. "Yes, Perfect Pitch is a friend of mine."

The mare let him have his barrage of questions, answering what she could and dancing around the more personal ones. Hoofprint was too busy with his interviewing to guide them any further, but Octavia managed to navigate through the empty corridors to the field. They eventually saw open outfield, and just before trotting out onto it, was stopped by a hefty voice behind them.

"Stop right there!" commanded what sounded like a stallion who took his guard duties seriously. "You're not supposed to be here."

"I apologize, but my nephew and I are just delivering Perfect Pitch his lucky baseball. He accidentally—"

"Stow it, I've heard every phony fairytale fans cook up. I have to ask you to leave now."

Octavia didn't even flinch, whereas Hoofprint hurriedly hid behind her for protection from the unicorn. "Very well, but when the MVP of the Trotters can't focus without his ball, I'll be sure to tell them—"

"Again, I know a lie when I see one." His horn began to glow. "Please leave otherwise I will be forced to remove you from the premises myself."

Octavia's teeth clenched. She had met her match; this stallion was no foalish clerk. She hated to do it, but she backed down, at least for Hoofprint's sake. He was practically shaking himself to pieces behind her. "Fine", she snapped. "Hoofprint, we're leaving now."

The colt was much too afraid of the acid in her voice to disobey. Under the watchful eye of the security guard, they departed. Octavia glared back at the large unicorn, but ultimately decided she was in the wrong. She was trespassing after all. Only when they got fifteen feet away did somepony come to their rescue.

"Hey, Moon Watch! Let those two they're guests!" called a hefty voice from the sunny field. The three turned to see the team's coach, smiling widely as he could and jogging into the foyer. The air inside instantly changed, especially near the guard.

"Ah, sorry, Zero Strike. I guess her story about your ball was true after all…"

"I'm sure he'll be glad to have it back", said Strike, playing along with the ruse.

"So sorry for the treatment, Miss", said Moon Watch to Octavia.

"I understand", she returned without accepting his apology.

They watched him leave. No sooner was he around the corner did Strike turn to the stadium's non-game visitors. "And who might we be?" he asked warmly.

"My name is Octavia, Sir", greeted the mare respectfully. "I'm a friend of Perfect Pitch." She stepped to the side, revealing the youngest pony in the cool foyer. "And this is Hoofprint. He is a big fan of the team and guided me here."

"Well, then, I'm Zero Strike, coach of the Trotters and two season major league player myself. It's nice to meet you both. Normally I don't do this, but since everypony's in such a good mood today, how would you like to meet the team?"

"Are you serious!?" squealed Hoofprint, almost literally bursting with excitement.

The coach laughed. "Of course, Son."

Octavia followed the colts, more interested in one player than the whole team entirely. Due to safety reasons, he led them around the outskirts of the field. The last thing anypony needed was a pop fly making a landing upside somepony's head. On the way, the cellist fell out of the eye of the other two, something she didn't mind much. It was bad enough to be so out of place she felt like a foreigner in a distant land. Celestia forbid if either of them wanted to include her in the sport talk.

Soon they reached the dugout, where Hoofprint nearly passed out upon being where his heroes waited for their turn to get out onto the field. Octavia merely gazed upon the colt she met only the day before in the batter's box. He steadied his wooden bat in his mouth and waited for his pitcher to send a first class delivery down the center of the infield. She studied what was going on; every move, twitch and breath made between the two players became documented in the back of her mind. Pitch's knowledge of music, if shallow compared to hers, compelled her to learn a little about his world. And who knows, maybe she might come to like it too.

She watched the Pegasus at the pitcher's mound send a fastball to the outside corner of the strike zone. It moved way to fast for her eyes to track it and, before she knew it, Pitch had swung his bat. The clash of the two echoed all around the near-empty park. Pitch wasted no time in taking off for first base. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the ball sailing still, so he tore a path for second, eventually passing it for third and was streaming for home plate in under twenty seconds. He watched the catcher, who was waiting for the outfielders to pass the ball to him.

Octavia watched on the edge of her hooves as one of the ponies out in the field rear back and sling the ball to home plate. Pitch was only half way when it got to its destination. She put her hooves to her mouth as the suspense suspended her heart high in her chest. From the Pegasus's eyes, he saw Octavia watching him. He couldn't tell if his mind was playing tricks on him, but that didn't matter. Either way he was dedicating the run to her.

The catcher stood his ground, ball in mitt and examining the runner's moves carefully. Pitch threw his rear hooves forward for a slide. The only flaw in his strategy was he slid way to early, giving home plate's defender a chance to level the mitt in his way. Pitch turned his rear hooves inward and pushed off the ground, taking everypony by surprise. He flipped over the catcher and landed right on top of the white safe zone.

"That", said Hoofprint blankly, "Was. Awesome!"

The scoring ball player looked up from his prone position. A proud smile spread under his nose when he saw Octavia applauding his impressive homerun.

**P**

"…and since you watched my audition", Octavia explained in the dugout to Pitch, "I decided to return the favor by watching your practice."

The Pegasus leaned back, hooves behind his head. He watched Hoofprint forcing himself to remain conscious among the team as he asked question after question. "I'm glad you came on today's practice."

"Why is that?"

He chuckled. "Ever since this morning I've felt great. I'm playing way better than I was before I started losin' my mind. You saw my first run in months just now."

Octavia let her gaze trace his grin, which in turn caused a smile of her own to form. "Then we should celebrate."

"I was thinking the same thing!" he exclaimed. He hopped up from the bench and dug through his bag. Octavia watched him pull out a pencil and a note pad. He quickly scribbled something down, ripped the page out and gave it to her. "Here. I know a pretty cool place in West Saddle that's great for another dinner. Tomorrow at seven they're going to have a…let's just say a swinging event."

"'648 Hoof Street. Top floor.'?" she read.

"It'll make sense tomorrow."

Since she had no plans, and was more than likely to cancel any she had anyway, Octavia nodded. "I shan't be a second late."

"Great. I can't wait." He stood up. "Sorry, but I gotta take off."

The mare remained on the bench while he shouted something at Zero Strike before flying straight up and leaving the field without even going back for his things. His abrupt departure sort of stung Octavia deeply. She tricked her heart and mind into shrugging it off by figuring that it must have been real important for him to have to leave practice. For some reason, she didn't make her way out with him. Something in the back of her mind kept her flank planted in the dugout to watch the spectacle that was baseball happen no more than ten feet away from her.

**P**

Somewhere on the other side of Canterlot, two ponies relaxed in the cool air of a dimly lit living room. The stallion of the two silently read sheet music for an upcoming concert while his wife reviewed the detailed criticisms of her baseball team, alternating between expressions of pride and disgust. Nothing more than the white noise of the occasional sigh disturbed the quiet of the house. That was the case, until there came a series of knocks from the front door.

_Knock Knock Knock!_

They exchanged a befuddled glance, as neither were expecting a visitor. However, as a polite household, both rose to answer it. Behind the door stood an excited and breathless Perfect Pitch with the widest grin either of them had ever seen.

"That's a pretty big smile, Pitch", laughed his mother, "Did ya finally get into the team cookie jar?"

He pushed his way inside. "No, I got another date with that mare I told you about!"

"Already?" his father asked, "That's wonderful!"

"Yeah, but I need something for it…" he paused to catch his breath. "I'll be right back." He flew up the stairs to his old room, which had stayed the same since he moved out. Fighting his way through the clutter of old baseball memorabilia and toys, tripping over a dirty jersey, he made it to his closet. He snatched open the doors and in less than ten seconds was buried under an avalanche of possessions he refused to throw out. The stallion climbed out of the pile, which was just tall enough to aid in his quest for the top shelf of the closet. He pulled down a dusty old instrument case. "I never thought I'd ever see you again…"

**Just what is our crazy stallion friend planning?**

**I am so very sorry for the delays. My life has gotten so topsy-turvy it's hard to remember what my name is. It has quite literally been one thing after the other: finals, car problems needing my attention, Christmas, relationship problems, more car problems and yet another spiral into depression…**

**I could really do with a few reviews for the next couple of updates…it would raise my spirits and motivate me to write more. So, if you could be so kind as to let me know what you think, I would appreciate it.**

**Also, it's been so long since I've written, I had to get back into the swing of things, so I could use a good critique or two as well.**

**Let's give a huge hoof for Starstruckproductions for Hoofprint, one of two magnificent OCs we'll be seeing across all of Season 2.**

**Trivia:**

**Pitch's parents live in the more quiet parts of Canterlot, where the noise of the city is nothing but a distant echo.**


	4. Better Than First Thought

Better Than First Thought

Octavia wandered through the mazes of streets that made up Canterlot. The whole day of preparing and planning for the excursion to uncharted territory did little to help her find where it was Pitch wanted to meet her. She went as far as to draw her path on the map she used the day before; however, no matter how many times she referred back to it, she found herself more and more lost. "I'm definitely not in Ponyville anymore", she told her hooves, shaking her head.

The only thing that kept her from stopping and asking for directions was the fact that she didn't know who would help and who would insult her for not knowing a simple address. She sighed. At this rate there was no way she would make it there before seven. The darkening sky overhead confirmed it. The Earth Pony scanned the faces of the ponies that knew the city for one that seemed remotely friendly.

A stallion, who looked much older than herself stood out in the crowd. He wore a black vest and a combed back mane. The thing that separated him from the snobs of Canterlot was his nose, which wasn't stuck in the air. "Excuse me", she said politely when he was in range.

"Yes?" He stopped.

She presented the paper with Pitch's scribble. "Could you direct me to this address? I'm very lost and only have a little time before I'm late meeting somepony."

The stallion took a look at what she held out. He smiled warmly. Stepping aside, he pointed across the street. "You're closer than you think, my dear."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you very much."

"My pleasure. The two of you have fun." He continued on his way without another word.

Octavia crossed the street, upsetting a couple of carriages in the process. "This is an apartment building...Pitch invited me to his home", she said, looking up at the exterior. She smiled. Whatever he had in store for her was sure to be a pleasant surprise. She entered and immediately the elevator tended by a pony in the back of the lobby. "Top floor, please."

He nodded and, with a pull of his lever, had them on their way to Pitch's penthouse. The mystery of what Pitch was planning made the ride up all the more thrilling. Floor by floor passed, giving Octavia a short glimpse of what each of the corridor's ponies were doing, from chatting idly to making their way to the elevators themselves. It was a good thing that the building was about as average in height as the rest in Canterlot. If it were one of the taller ones, she might have gotten a little bored. The doors opened soon after the eight floor, landing right at ten.

"Thank you", she said to the attendant.

He nodded and started the elevator back down, leaving her alone in a small hallway. A lone door was the only thing that stood with her. On it was a note. Her name was printed on the front. "Octavia", she read, "Come on in."

Following the instructions, the mare pushed open the door and entered the brightly lit apartment. The vast, highly expensive inside caused a tick of anger to briefly flash over her. Seeing how much money his baseball career was obviously brining in didn't exactly settle well with the musician. It passed quickly; she didn't want to ruin the night with what she knew was a pretty valid assumption. Now that her thoughts were no longer interruption her senses, the intense smell of cheese over came her nose. She traced it to the next room, where even more chrome could be found plating the appliances.

The mare couldn't find the source of the heavenly smell, so left back out for the living room. She found even more furniture, framed in stainless steel and cushioned by pillows of black, but no Pitch anywhere. Why would he not be around? The only plausible thing that Octavia could figure was that he was still getting ready. She smiled, imagining him rushing to get a bowtie fastened around his neck for the night. That thought made her remember something. She wasn't wearing anything! The pure enthusiasm about the night made her forget about getting ready!

Suddenly she felt very out of place. Tonight felt hundreds of times more formal than the last, even despite standing in a living room and not a four-star restaurant. There was nothing she could do about it; the only hope that remained was that maybe he wouldn't notice, or better if he came out in worse shape. To take away some of the anxiety, she took a seat near the huge window that made up the outer corner of the room. The view of the setting sun over Equestria's capital city was absolutely gorgeous, and the violin solo was the perfect addition. The soft, drawn out notes on the strings melted all of her worries away.

_Just a moment…where is that coming from? _Her ears homed in on the soft whispers of the instrument. They came from the staircase in the back. At the first step was Pitch, standing on his hind legs and drawing the violin's bows across its strings. He dressed himself in a black suit, completing the contradiction of his career as a baseball player.

She couldn't see it, but he fought to keep down a large grin in order to appear more professional. His eyes were closed, another feature to his symphonic solo that added a certain mastery for the piece he played. Speaking of the lullaby, Octavia couldn't place what he played in any of the myriad of symphonies she knew. To say the absolute least, the cellist was immersed in pure captivation. The building could suddenly burst into flames, but so long as he continued to play, she wouldn't move.

His hooves kept the bow moving across several more of the piece's measures before lifting the bow away after a long decrescendo. Pitch allowed a ten second interlude to proceed before he opened his eyes. He grinned at her awe-struck gawk.

"Oh, merciful music", she breathed, "You play?"

He nodded sincerely, pushing instinctive sarcasm aside. "Yes. Betcha didn't see that one coming, huh?"

"I'm beyond impressed", she declared. She motioned to his instrument. "May I?

"Oh, sure."

Octavia turned the instrument over in her hooves while she examined every detail. "Perfectly hoof carved, magnificently polished, perfectly tuned…it's beautiful. How did you ever find such a well-made violin?"

"My uncle's a luthier", he answered, "My dad had him make it for me back when I played."

"How long ago was that?" Her question came from the 7/8 size. Not exactly the full length, yet not small enough for a young colt. Maybe he wasn't as young as she thought when he gave music up for baseball.

"When I left school. I got my baseball contract right out of graduation and never picked it up again…"

The shame in his voice pulled his features down into a genuine frown. Octavia found it well-placed. Anypony who could play so passionately well without regular practice no doubt had a deep love for the art. That called for another question. "Why finally play again after so long?"

Pitch's face darkened from light blue to purple, and finally red. "I thought you might like to know I'm not all ball player like my mom."

She gave him back the violin. "I'm happy you showed me we're not all that different."

"I'm happy I have a reason to play again. Kinda forgot I loved playing."

The mare's heart skipped a beat. _She _made him play again? What was so special about her to make him want to play again? As a pony who didn't find pleasure in knowing every detail of a situation, she move the evening along. Maybe the answers would arise in time. "I'd love to hear you play again. Perhaps sometime after we enjoy whatever wonderful smell is coming from the kitchen?"

Suddenly the Pegasus remembered what he had originally invited her over for. "Oh, yeah, yeah!" He hurried to the kitchen away from the embarrassment showing so clearly across his face. Octavia followed, relishing in the accidental power she had over him. Had she not been astounded by his performance, her devious side might have risen to embarrass him further.

Inside the L-shaped kitchen Pitch hastily withdrew a pan of what he had awaiting for their stomachs from the oven. The casserole hardly looked like such; however, under its unevenly lain hay topping and clumps of melted cheddar, the dish must have been more taste than presentation. That's what she hoped anyway. Pitch cut out two cubes of the steamy casserole and placed them at the centers of two circles of apple slices he had on their plates. He slid the plates onto his wings and carried them to the dining table situated on the other side of the island that housed the cooking area.

He was finished when the plates were down. The ball-player politely pulled her chair out and pushed her back in when she sat. "I hope you like it. My dad used to make this whenever we had special guests."

"'Special?'" Octavia turned her head skeptically. She was an aspiring musician, and hardly special.

Pitch, however, saw things in a slightly different way. "Yeah. You're a really nice pony and I'm really happy I ran into you the other day. I know it's only been a couple of days, but I feel like we're already good friends."

Octavia was flattered. In a big city, usually ponies were distrustful of each other. Pitch was friendlier than he first let on. The cellist really liked that; maybe her stay in Canterlot wouldn't be so lonely anymore. She only needed to know exactly how much of his time she could have. Fearing that asking such trivial questions would ruin the mood between them, Octavia figured that she would know by the time the evening ended exactly how much free time the colt had. For now, she settled with simply eating the dinner he had prepared for them.

"I can't wait for your next audition", he was saying while she wandered with her thoughts.

"Neither can I", she replied, "And having you there only makes the occasion more exciting to look forward to."

"Really?"

"Yes. You're the only friend I have here in Canterlot", she explained, "In the week that I've arrived, I haven't had anypony here to welcome me or even give a tour."

"I'll walk you around", he offered quickly, "I don't have practice tomorrow and I'll just probably sleep all day anyway."

"That sounds nice." She figured she gave the casserole enough time to cool down and took her first bite. A new sensation washed over her that no food before had ever come close to. It wasn't so much the taste, but rather the "at home" feeling that warmed her very soul. If she had closed her eyes, she would have most likely felt she was back home in Ponyville.

Pitch read the surprise across her face. "Make's ya feel right at home, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "This is amazing."

"My mom and dad came up with the recipe when I was born", he told her with a smile, "They call it 'Memory Surprise'."

"Why that?"

"Because it reminds ponies of the best thing that happen to them. Like hitting the Equestrian Series' winning homerun, or writing a symphony that won the Conductor of the Year award."

"Or having a son."

He chuckled. "No matter what they ever did, Mom and Dad always say I'm their greatest accomplishment."

"Knowing you even in the short time that I have, I can confirm that you must be."

Pitch blushed. He pretended to take a drink of his water to hide his face behind the cup. "Thanks…"

His modesty didn't go by unnoticed. Figuring he must not receive many compliments like that, Octavia refused to press more into him. "I must meet your parents one day. They sound like very nice ponies."

"My dad'll love you. My mom too probably."

"I'm curious", she mused aloud.

"Yeah?"

"You play the violin so well, yet you chose baseball as your career. If I may ask, why not become a concert violinist?"

Pitch leaned forward. "It's a long story, but you still wanna hear it, huh?" As he expected she nodded. "To be honest, I haven't always liked baseball."

"Really?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Since I was born I loved music. My dad always played lullabies for me when I was little. When I was big enough to play, he gave me my first violin. I loved that thing. I played all the way up until I started music school."

"What happened then?"

"I couldn't play in my first year; I had to sing in the choir as a baritone so I could prove I knew music theory. After I aced that year, I was able to bring my violin. The second year was really boring because I knew everything they tried teaching me in the core curriculum or whatever, so I mainly just made a couple of friends who were at the top of the class with me."

"What instruments did they play?"

"We were all violinists", he laughed, "We formed a quartet. Let me think…I was third violin, Resonant Beat was first, Treble Melody was second, and Chord Interval was fourth."

"Four violins?" Octavia eyed him skeptically. "That couldn't have been wise."

"I didn't say we sounded okay, haha! Once we got into third year we made a cello friend, Tuner String, so I split off and played what we called 'bass violin'. Don't judge, we were seven. We played together all the way up until our final year. We were all up for scholarships for Notation Academy in Trottingham…"

Pitch's voice quivered. Octavia braced herself for the plot twist. That is, if he had the will to tell her. He silently writhed in his chair, an obvious mental battle going on behind his sudden pain-stricken eyes. Octavia opened her mouth to object to him finishing, but he beat her to the words.

"Sorry", he said, "I gotta tell you another time."

"It's fine", Octavia replied soothingly, "I don't want to force out any more pain."

Pitch noticed that they had both eaten the entirety of the meal during his story. "I hope you're a cake pony."

She smiled, pushing what had just happened to the back of her mind. "I would love a slice of cake."

The mare watched as he left of the other side of the island. While he sliced the pastry, Octavia wondered exactly what more this interesting colt had in store for her. She doubted that whatever else he still had under that athletic grin could top being a violin master. If only she knew how wrong she was…

**Wow! What a surprise! Pitch, a violinist, who knew?**

**Really sorry for the delays. I have so much going on right now. I'm busy rewriting my old stories, and furthering my art career while trying to gain readers on Fimfiction.**

**Speaking of that dreadful site, if you have a Fimfiction account and would like to support me there as well, I would be most grateful, as I'm struggling to acquire new ones there. You can find my account under the same username.**

**Trivia:**

**Pitch is such a trusting pony because of the atmosphere that his parents had set for him while he was young.**


End file.
